


Like A Song Forgotten

by samaya



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Guilt, Homophobia, M/M, Magic, Royalty, Secrets, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-10 13:13:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3291569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samaya/pseuds/samaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen wakes up to the unfamiliar feeling of having a warm body in his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. Feedback is appreciated.

Jensen wakes up to the unfamiliar feeling of having a warm body in his bed.

He unconsciously reaches for his sword, automatic response of a warrior in a potentially dangerous situation. Without his sword he is naked and one moment of uncertainty can lead to death in these situations. The moment he touches the blade something in him rejoices. The confidence creeps back in, the steel of the blade is a caress against his naked palm, a part of the ritual. His eyes open even as his head hurts.

How much did I drink yesterday? Is the first thought on his mind.

That's just the stable boy, Is the second sober thought.

He relaxes his grip on the blade, lets it rest on it's rightful place and casts his gaze on the boy sleeping beside him. Nothing to worry here, no need to raise an alarm. It is just the stable boy from last night. Not the imperial guard or not the enemy soldiers. Just the stable boy.

The sun has left the mercurial oceans in search of higher realms of sky gods. The harsh sunlight pierces from the open windows, casting the strange shadows and designs on the floor. Jensen's eyes take a moment to adjust now, his body relaxed enough in a rare show of trust.

The stable boy sleeps beside him, utterly unaware of the thoughts that run in Jensen's head. He is sprawled on his stomach, body relaxed in deep slumber. His face is obscured by the brown clean hair that had felt like smooth silk last night. Faint hint of Jasmine lingers in the air.

The sun is in the sky and boy is still there, like a sleeping beauty from the long lost folklore. This is confusing.

The night is over. He should've left before sunrise. That's the way things are done around here, that's the best way to avoid suspicion.

In the daylight Jensen can see the clues he missed last night. The boy is obviously young, probably not even sixteen summers old. His body is slim, lightly muscled and well maintained. He has high cheekbones and slant eyes that speak of superior family line. His features are delicate even if they are clearly masculine in nature. There are no marks on his body save what Jensen has left last night, and he glows with something undefinable.

Most of all there is a ring on his finger, complicated symbols carved on the golden metal with precise accuracy. These inscriptions are eerily familiar to him, like the lyrics of a half-forgotten song.

The Jasmine scent is much more noticeable now. A phantom pain rises in the hollow cavity in his chest. He is surprised to recognize it as the longing.

This is not a stable boy. This is no commoner. There are no scars on his body and there is no sign of any mistreatment. Jensen knows the life of a commoner and it is not an easy one. This boy who lies beside Jensen like he belongs there is not a commoner. Jensen will bet his sword on this.

This changes a lot of things. No change is ever good.

*****

His mind is a fogged mirror; the last night's events paint an obscure picture on it. Jensen tries and digs, searches his mind and finally finds the details.

Last night is a series of flashes in his memory. There was drinking and there was betting, of that he was sure. Loud laughs and spirited arguments, friendly bets and eager whores all come back to his mind. Yesterday was the night of the festival, all of the debauchery was expected as a form of celebration. Jensen, the war hero in exile had definitely enjoyed a chance to tell the tales and earn the money.

He remembers catching the eyes of the shy boy sitting in the bar, remembers encouraging glances that left him hot and wanting. A silent language of stolen glances and fluttering eyelashes, enough to communicate and dictate the essentials of this engagement. Jensen knows this dance from his memory, knows the intimate details and steps like he knows back of his hand. A look and a raised eyebrow, a wink and a smile -all ways to express oneself. He doesn't drink much after that, but he is already drunk with anticipation.

After midnight the boy leaves the bar, throwing a last glance at him and leaving him breathless with desire. He excuses himself in the middle of the complaints, says that he is too old and too tired, for now. Yes, he will come back tomorrow, with the dragon tooth dagger and more stories. Yes, that girl is really pretty and he will definitely enjoy her today. Yes, he is really thankful of the hospitality but right now he has to leave. This night is for conquests and he doesn't want to waste any more time here when he can do something better.

They laugh good naturedly and catcall as he leaves. Jensen plasters a smile and leaves the scene even as his heart beats faster at the prospect of finally getting laid. It's difficult to maintain the façade but he doesn't want to start fights now. Not when he got a chance tonight.

The path to his cabin is illuminated by the light of the full moon. He finds the boy there, walking slowly as if waiting for someone. Jensen runs on slightly unsteady steps, eager to meet him. When he catches him and takes him in his arms, it feels distinctly like a dream.

"My cabin," Jensen whispers and boy nods. They walk along the path without touching each other like parallel lines drawn on a paper. Jensen sees the way boy looks at him, sees the way he looks around, ever cautious of his surroundings. Jensen can't blame him. This town is rather unsophisticated and only entertainment these days comes from public executions. Here, the laws will be obeyed and deviants will be punished without delay. Jensen's reputation might make him untouchable but this boy might not be that fortunate.

The cabin he rented is relatively a safe place for such activities. It's built on a graveyard, thus most people dislike the place. Locals whisper of ghosts and demons, tell tales of strange creatures that walk there when sun goes down. Jensen doesn't think much about that. He has yet to encounter anything that he hasn't been able to kill.

Once they are inside he gathers the boy in his arms and whispers sweet nothings in his ear. The boy's clothes are rather ragged and used, his accent is somewhat vulgar. Jensen understands some words, but mostly he understands the cues his body leaves. The kiss is sweet and urgent at first then it turns rough.

"Your name, Tell me your name" Jensen pants between the kisses and gropes, even if he knows it's nothing but a one night encounter. He sees the hazel eyes looking at him rather curiously and shrugs. This is a cheap fuck and usually he won't be bothered with the details but sometimes he needs that extra connection. He is probably getting soft in his old age.

"Jared," The boy's words come out in a rush, his hands tug at Jensen's breeches searching for his cock there. His grip is sure and firm, confident. Obviously experienced. That is good, it makes Jensen feel less like a cradle robber and more like a lover.

Jensen groans. Jared's palm is right there on his cock, pressing in the exact way he likes. It has been a while and Jensen is precariously close. He pushes Jared on the bed before he loses it. He has other plans for this night.

Jensen is gentle with this kid, as gentle as his body allows him. It is still rough, still harsh and crude. Jensen fucks like he fights, gives himself to the sensation and lets his body do the work. It's like fighting your enemy, besting him and showing him how good you can be. Finding the places that make Jared sing with pleasure and using them against him. Learning him in intimate detail and conquering him. Winning a war without shedding blood.

Jared isn't shy. He rakes his nails on Jensen's back and scratches there. Asks and demands with his body, takes in everything Jensen has to give. With each stroke Jensen delivers, with each push he fulfills a silent promise. Jared moans and groans, murmurs soft words in harsh tongues. He looks like an angel.

Later they fuck again. This time it's not frantic or edgy but almost lazy and content. Jensen slides in without resistance, intimately aware of the sounds Jared makes in the meantime. He worries at the golden skin, nibbles and licks but there is no hurry in his moments. He is content in the moment, lost in the depths of Jared's eyes. He forgets his nightmares and fears, forgets everything that isn't Jared. Time slows down and almost stops, and Jensen curls inside this tiny bubble of reality and savors.

Jared stays the night. He falls asleep almost immediately, sated and content. Jensen follows him in few minutes, but a question fills his mind.

How this could be wrong, he wonders even as sleep comes.

*****

Things look different in the morning. They always do.

Jared is still in his bed, and chances of discovery are quiet high. Still something inside him rejoices at the sight. Jared hasn't left him, which is a novelty in itself. Everyone always leaves, this Jensen knows by experience.

"What are you looking at?" Jared looks coy and happy with himself. A lazy smile forms on his lips bringing out the dimples.

"It's morning," Jensen states. Hopes that Jared will take the hint.

"Yup, it is" Jared yawns, and turns "Looks like it's gonna be a good day,"

"Jared, right?" Jensen sees the confirmation and continues "You have to leave now," He states the obvious.

"I do like it here," Jared kisses him then, a chaste peck on the lips that sends heat throughout his body.

This is going to hurt him. But it needs to be done.

"You are not a stable-boy," Jensen signals at the ring to make his point. The metal shines and casts a strange color as sunlight hits it.The inscriptions flicker and change with the light.

Jared looks at the ring and then meets Jensen's eyes. A shadow crosses his face. He nods, almost embarrassed.

Jensen doesn't want any answers. He can see how this is going to play out. Not a commoner and definitely someone from a noble family. Maybe someone belonging to a royal line, because that ring sure speaks of elegance and royalty. Jensen has to cut the ties, here and now. There is no other way.

"I think you should leave before anyone gets suspicious of your absence, My Lord" Jensen adds the title and sees the way Jared flinches. It's true then.

"Or you could come with me, “Jared’s tone becomes colder, laced with a subtle authority even as his fingers trace designs on Jensen's palms. “As my bodyguard” He clarifies.

The chess pieces fall in place and complete the puzzle. Jensen has seen the crown prince, he knows the emperor. He tries to picture the emperor’s impassive face from their last meeting and connects that with this young boy. Same strength and authority radiates from this boy, same hazel eyes look at him from a much younger face. He curses himself for not seeing this before.

Not crown prince, the boy is too young for that. But the resemblance is there and the metal band on Jared’s finger speaks of authority. Maybe a cousin or a prince, then.

Jared looks at him expectantly, waiting for the answer. For a second he looks impossibly younger than his years, hopeful and boyish in a way that tugs at Jensen’s heartstrings. He reminds him of another boy from another time, reopens another unhealed wound.

Jensen wants to say yes and go with him, wants to take this offer. But he has seen too much, knows how these things end ultimately. King’s temper is legendary and he’s known to make harsh decisions. Jared might think that he can hide but Jensen knows that’s unlikely.

Jensen knows what will happen. They will be discovered and punished, accordingly. Maybe Jared's life will be spared but he will be stripped off of his title. Humiliation and exile will teach him difficult lessons and that smile on his face will disappear. Jensen refuses to become the reason for that.

“No,” He says.

“No?” Jared challenges,

“No offence to you My Lord, but I like variety. Spending the rest of my life in palace sounds like slavery to me, if you catch my drift,” He says.

“I haven’t done this with anyone else,” Jared admits with a shy smile. “I think there is something between us, something concrete. I could come with you as your apprentice; we can leave this place and run for southern lands. I have heard things are different there. It will be like an adventure,” A desperate edge creeps in his voice.

“You don’t get it , do you? I just wanted a warm body to fuck last night and you were there. That’s all. I don’t play with same toys and I certainly don’t plan to take you as my apprentice. It takes much to impress me and your tricks between the sheets aren’t enough to do the job,”

Jensen is being deliberately cruel. He sees the shock on Jared’s face as the insult hits him. This might be first time anyone talked to him like that, without respect or restraint. It’s for the best, really.

“What’s your name? We fucked all night, but I didn’t get your name.” Jared asks him then, voice trembling with anger. Jensen sees the effort it takes him to control his rage. He knows that it is not true, knows that Jared knew exactly who he was fucking last night. But he decides to answer.

“Jensen of Ackles , My Lord” He says because that sounds better that the other, more common name-faggot Dragonslayer. Then a little curiously asks “Why?”

“Because a cheap fuck doesn’t need to have a name, but, I need to know the name of the man I’m going to kill,” the boy smiles and says the words with a shrug, deceptively innocent.

“You’ll have to join the queue,” Jensen dismisses him with those words.The boy has fire in him, and it will do him good in future. He's young, he'll get over his crush and disappointment.

Jared doesn't answer. He dresses in silent and refuses to look at Jensen. Jensen sits there, and waits for him to leave.

An eternity passes between them. Later Jensen will think of this encounter with regret, later he will dream of this boy, but for now he sits there unmoved and passive.

Maybe Jared will come back to fulfill his promise. Jensen sure hopes so.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I couldn't resist the urge to write something more in this AU. So you have a timestamp/continuation here.

This must be heaven.

It appears that this time he is on a beach.

The air is saturated with the moisture; it flows over him and caresses his skin with ghost fingers. He opens his mouth to taste the salt in the faint drops of dew. The ocean roars in the background, a benign presence in the back of his mind. It invites him and fascinates him, serene and beautiful as always. Coarse sand kisses his naked feet; small crabs run away as he walks on the shore. Ocean sends the tides to him, faithful servants asking him to come back, asking him to come home. He ignores them and continues on the path, searching for something even as he forgets.

He remembers this place, vaguely. This is the place where war started; this is the place where it ended, finally. The ocean wasn’t so amiable then, it was filled with the enemies. This is the place where he wielded the cursed blade and brought havoc, this is where he spilled blood like there is no tomorrow.

He can see it clearly, as if time has no significance here, as if there is nothing that separates him from this place. The sand saturated with blood, the dead bodies on the beach, lying around like the sacrifices on the altar of the Salt Lord. The smell of decaying flesh assaults his nostrils; the cry of ravens is music in his ears. The blade in his hand forged and molded for this specific purpose comes alive with the lust for the blood. The Mistress of Death dances on his fingers and asks him to kill. He obliges her without delay.

This was his battlefield, this must be his heaven.

But now nothing is left to show that. The sand shines in the sunlight, pure and pristine like untouched snow. The battle cries are replaced by the lullabies sung by the ocean. The water now flows without the rage; the tides rise as if they are dancing to some unheard tune. The red is replaced and white takes its place. There are no skeletons on the sand, no funeral pyres to honor the dead. No lizards, no dragons, no enemies. Jensen’s hands itch with the desire but there is nothing left to kill.

This is a parody of what could have been, this is a punishment.

Still he walks, ignoring his surroundings, searching for something that his heart desires.

 

The landscape changes and the ocean falls silent. A different kind of rhythm calls him; a different music guides his steps. Twin moons rise in the sky, and illuminate the path before him as he walks. Even before he sees the tent, he feels it.

Inside the tent he finds Jared.

The music stops. The young prince looks up as Jensen enters the tent uninvited. His lips curve back in a tentative smile, as he watches Jensen. His eyes are expectant and beautiful, his body strong and sinuous, his smile inviting.

Jensen doesn’t speak to him, just sits down on the bed and cocks his head, and Jared flushes.

Jared’s hands are strong and delicate, a contradiction in themselves. His fingers are long and elegant and they play the mandolin with the effortlessness of a master. The instrument becomes a part of him, the notes fill the void and the music flows out of him. There is a sadness in the tune, a feeling of lose so profound that it touches the soul with cold fingers. Jensen is reminded of all that he has lost and all that he will lose in that second. His eyes fill with unshed tears even as he refuses to give in.

After a while the music stops. Jared speaks without meeting Jensen’s eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors today,”

“This isn’t real,” Jensen counters.

Nothing is real in Grey Places. Nothing is permanent here. This is the place where humans see what they want to see. This is where you can find your heart’s desire, this is where you can find your biggest fears. This is the exquisite chamber where time stops and the reality slips like the sand.

Jensen doesn’t remember who told him about these things, doesn’t remember who taught him the art of entering grey places. He only knows that he must have killed that person.

“Of course, this isn’t real. But this could’ve been real. But now, it is just a possibility, one out of the thousand others. You didn’t allow this one to become reality. You made sure of that.”

“You don’t know me. You haven’t seen what I have done, you don’t know how the world works. You are like a child crying for her mother, throwing tantrums around and playing with fire. I did what was best for us,” Jensen says,

“Then, why are you here Jensen? If you are so confident that you did your best then why you wander on these planes wearing regret and sorrow on your sleeve. Why you search for me in the Grey Places every single time? “

Jensen doesn’t have an answer to that. It seems that his prince is not in a good mood today. It seems that Jensen will not get a chance to hold him today.

Jared laughs then, it’s filled with bitter disappointment.

“I don’t have time for this,” He says turning away from Jensen and focusing his attention on the painting on the wall. “I have too much to learn and too little time left to practice, it is best if you leave now,”

“Can I get one kiss?” Jensen pleads.

“You want to kiss me? Aren’t you searching for variety now?” Jared openly mocks him. Jensen stands there like a fool, head bowed in embarrassment. He knows that these are the tricks this place plays on him, knows that nothing here is real but still it hurts.

Jared takes pity on him, kisses him on lips once, chaste. It reminds him of their last kiss.

Jared kisses his eyelids, collects the salty drops of moisture from there and moves along his jaw to suck on the shell of his ear. He whispers.

“You aren’t the only one with regrets, you aren’t the only one who can walk in Grey Places. Just open your heart and see. You will know the truth,”

Then as abruptly as it started the visit ends. Jensen is sitting in his room and a cloud of grey smoke surrounds him. 

The smoke dissipates and disintegrates before his eyes, with it the details of the latest visit slip from his mind. 

 

For some reason he smiles more that day, some unknown rhythm guides his steps and fills him with joy. 

 

 


End file.
